Special recipe for muffins
by Miss Trudi Bubble
Summary: It’s a long way home to LA. And Murdock has finally gone too far. But all’s well that end’s well.


Well, I guess you've not been holding your breath waiting for this story or me to fall out of the sky. Watching my growing infatuation with The A-Team - and especially a certain crazy pilot - I decided to start dusting off my pretty rusty English and translate on of my fics. I'm kind of a seasoned fanfic writer (and no, you're not gonna find any of my previous stories, 'cause I got a new identity for The A-Team) so this won't be a too unpleasant experience for any of us, I think. Well, except for the guys maybe. I'm not known for being kind to the one I love.

title: special recipe for muffins

author: Miss Trudy Bubble  
series: The A-Team

episode: Mission of Peace

pairing: the team  
rating: PG, humor/satire

summary: It's a long way home to LA. And Murdock has finally gone too far. But all's well that end's well.

note: it's kinda helpful to remember some details from said episode…

disclaimer: this story's idea is mine as far as I know, but I do not intend to touch any of the rights of the legal owner of the characters from 'The A-Team' I've used. No moneymaking, no offence meant.

The banging in the back of the Van grew louder.

Hannibal finally put down his newspaper to look at a sniggering BA. Then he turned to take in Face's grin. "Okay guys, that's enough fun for one day. Stop the Van and go get Murdock, BA."

"But man, Hannibal." BA at once started to gripe, his scowl deepening. "The crazy jibber-jabbering fool traded my ride for a shabby old horse! We shoulda left him back with the Mission."

"Yeah, c'mon Hannibal," Face chirped in. "Don't tell me you're actually missing his non-stop talking? Give us at least a chance for some quiet."

"It's a long way home and I won't let Murdock spent the ride trussed up like a turkey in the back." Hannibal lit a fresh cigar.

The banging continued, now sounding like somebody kicking the back door with both feet.

"Well, he can stay gagged." The colonel picked up his reading.

Face turned to hit the back wall with the palm of his hand, satisfied when the banging stopped. At least for a moment.

"Haaaaannnibaaal!"

"Now, that much about leaving him gagged. Looks like he's already got rid of it," Face said with a smirk.

BA stopped the car. "Go get the fool before he hurts my ride, Faceman, or I gonna hurt him," he growled.

Putting up his best 'Why-always-me?'-expression, Face climbed out to open the back door of the car. A minute later he returned, rubbing his shoulder. "He kicked me," he complained surly.

"It's been an accident, Facey," the pilot defended himself, getting into the seat next to him. "I've meant to hit the door. Couldn't probably know you're gonna to open it then, could I?" Pushing back his furry hat he crossed his arms in front of the chest, a deep frown on his face.

BA started the Van and they continued the journey.

"An accident, really?" Face whined. "What about this?" He showed the skin between thumb and forefinger where some very healthy teeth left a nice row of bite marks. "Don't tell me you mixed up again and accidentally bit me! I just wanted to get the remains of the tape BA used for the gag off your cheek!"

A feral grin showed on Murdock's face. "I'm hungry. You guys put me in there two hours ago without feeding me first."

"Okay fellas, quiet." Hannibal turned to glare at his bickering 'boys'. "Daddy wants to read his paper." Another glare stopped BA effectively from making a nasty remark. "Face, find something to feed pathfinder. I know the ladies provided us with a basket full of food. BA's special friend Babette said something about putting in a surprise for us." He returned to his reading, again. "The basket's stashed somewhere beneath your seat, Murdock."

Both Face and the pilot moved the same moment to get it – of course bumping their heads. Luckily Murdock's fur hat somewhat dampened the collision.

Nevertheless - Face's never been known to miss an occasion to complain. "I just can't believe they let you take the pathfinder costume. At least get rid of that ugly fur hat. It stinks!"

"No way, muchacho." Murdock started digging through the basket's contains, finally pulling out a sandwich, wrapped into some tissue. "The pathfinder has to be always fully clothed and prepared to defend the dangers of the wilderness," he lectured, his strangely accented voice somewhat muffled by the big bite from the snack.

Face grabbed one of the sandwiches, unwrapped and eyed it with suspicion. He wasn't sure if the less than appetizing smell came from the food or Murdock's hat. He watched the pilot gulping down his sandwich. How could he eat that stuff? Well, no wonder, the man lived in a hospital, he wouldn't knew the good stuff if it bit him. He on the other hand considered himself a gourmet. "Hannibal, tell him to get rid of that dead squirrel on his head. Or I'm gonna get rid of him and the fur hat. Maybe you can't smell it because of all the smoke from you cigars, but…"

Murdock interrupted him. "That's not squirrel, it's beaver. But there could be squirrel meat on your sandwich."

Face, losing his appetite, wrapped the sandwich and put it back into the basket. "Thanks. I just remembered being on a diet."

"I remember reading a recipe for squirrel chili once," the pilot started - only to be interrupted by BA.

"Shut up, fool," he growled. "You're crazy. Nobody's cooking squirrels."

"Awwwh, c'mon, big guy. Squirrels eat only healthy stuff like nuts and fir-cones. Plus they're getting all the fresh air in the world, jollying around the woods. And think of all the exercise they get, climbing up and down trees. They're high protein health food. Keeps the muscles of big ugly mudsuckers in shape."

"Got some coffee for me in that basket?" Hannibal asked, getting no response by any member of his team.

"I won't eat no squirrel, that's for crazy fools!" BA shook his head with disgust.

"Well, well, coming from somebody who prefers burgers over real food," Face contemptuously injected. "And milk of course. Burgers and milk, that's some kind of diet."

"What's wrong with milk?" BA growled.

"I'd really like to have some coffee," Hannibal said, putting down his newspaper. Again nobody paid any attention to his request.

"Nothings wrong with milk," Face quipped. "Except it's for Babies." He smoothed down his tie.

"Wanna say what, sucker?" BA turned, a deep scowl on his face. His eyes blazed.

"I wish we had milk. Hey, we've got muffins. At the VA we always get muffins with milk." Murdock started to rummage through the basket, getting one of the little cakes, before pushing it over to Face.

"I prefer my coffee black, thank you," Hannibal remarked dryly.

"You can have muffins with soda." Face took a can out of the basket, flipping it over to the pilot. Not really the brightest idea of his life.

Murdock pulled open the can and it started spraying the soda all over the seat and the pilot – and of course Face's jacket, who at once started to moan about the stains he'd never gonna get rid off. BA grumbled about pounding somebody into the ground for getting his seats dirty. The pilot wiped his hands with an expression of hurt innocence, using his pants as a towel.

And Hannibal still had no coffee. "Cool it, guys," he ordered. "That's enough. You are worse than a bunch of teenager."

A few precious moments peace settled upon the team.

Face got a thermos bottle from the basket and poured a cup of coffee for Hannibal.

Murdock moved on to inspect his muffin. "I dunno what's that black stuff inside," he murmured. "Looks like… little black round stuff."

Face leaned over to take a look at it. "Perhaps it's a recipe with ground nuts or poppy, stuff like that."

"Isn't this somewhat big for poppy?"

Murdock's mentioning 'little black round stuff' finally peeked the colonels interest. And triggered a memory. Without a word Hannibal turned, took the muffin from Murdock, rolled down the window and tossed it out.

Three pairs of eyes met his with an identical look of bewilderment.

Hannibal grinned. "I think Babette packed the wrong muffins," he said, enjoying his coffee. "Those were leftovers from the homemade ammunition we fed BA's cannon. It's not poppy, it's gunpowder."

Face took the basket and got out the bag with muffins. Without a word he slid back the side door of the Van to throw out the deadly pastry. Murdock looked a little green around the nose. BA growled something about 'old ladies not wearing their glasses'.

And Hannibal leaned back into his seat to enjoy the peaceful silence.

Of course it didn't last long and the bickering started anew.

The colonel sighed. Yeah, it definitely would be a very long drive to Los Angeles.

The end


End file.
